Arcane Heart (Talents Book 2)

by Angela Knight

  He vividly remembered the day he’d met her, five years ago at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan. They’d all gaped like idiots. Erica made even camo look good. Tall and long-legged, she had full breasts that rounded her tan T-shirt with intriguing curves. Her grip had felt smooth and surprisingly strong as she shook his hand, flashing a brilliant smile. “Glad to be here.”

  Dave had shouldered him aside, grinning, toothy as his Familiar. “Not as glad as we are to have you.”

  From then on, the members of Whisker had vied like smitten twelve-year-olds for her attention. She’d kept her distance from them all, refusing to flirt, silently demanding to be treated as a fellow soldier rather than a woman.

  It wasn’t until they watched her disarm a MEED one afternoon on patrol that they’d learned she was a hell of a lot more than a pretty face.

  Dressed in a seventy-five pound bomb suit that made her look like a robot in a ‘50s monster flick, Erica lumbered over to the mine Jake had scented buried in the sand. A Caliphate sorcerer had inscribed complex magical symbols over its case designed to trigger and amplify the MEED’s Semtex explosives.

  Three months before, the team’s previous Arc had been killed trying to disarm a booby trap just like it. They’d all watched in tense silence as she’d knelt in the clumsy armored suit, only her pale, lovely hands bare. You couldn’t work magic in armored gloves, and disarming a MEED called for a delicate touch.

  Staring through closed lids, Jake had watched her aura wash over the Caliphate spell, picking apart sorcerous symbols with delicate precision. For the next hour, she’d labored in the broiling heat. If she’d touched one magical symbol out of order, she’d have triggered a blast that could have killed her on the spot. At the very least, she’d have lost those pretty hands. In theory, the bomb suit would have protected her, but maybe not. MEEDs had had been known to take out tanks.

  Erica had successfully disarmed the bomb.

  Whisker Team had whooped and cheered like maniacs as she lumbered back to them in the bomb suit. They’d had to help her out of it, since the helmet alone weighed thirty pounds. Jake had no idea how anybody worked in one of the things, especially a woman.

  As it was, by the time she was out of it, her clothes had clung to her sweating body as if glued there, and her perspiring face was beet red.

  Dave, being Dave, teased her about smelling like a goat. She’d grinned and shot back, “What’s your excuse, furboy?”

  That was the moment Corporal Erica Harris truly joined Whisker Team.

  Three months later, Bobby had somehow talked his way into her bed. Jake had been irrationally jealous of his brother. Even Clarence was pissed. But Erica had made her choice, and they’d all respected it.

  To make matters worse, Bobby had been an insufferable shit about the whole thing, at least in private where she couldn’t hear him gloat. He’d done a lot of crap behind her back. Though in retrospect, Jake supposed he couldn’t begrudge whatever happiness his brother had managed to find. God knew he’d paid dearly for it.

  “Stop that,” Erica said.

  Jake jolted back to the present as she took Clarence’s half-manifested head in her hands. It felt as if she cupped his own face. “Quit rubbing on me like that,” she scolded. “No other lions will be sniffing me, so there’s no point in scent marking.”

  Clarence chuffed, refusing to cede the point. Jake had no idea whether she could hear the cat or not. Probably. Erica was incredibly sensitive where anything magical was concerned.

  “About that.” Jake hadn’t intended to say it, but somehow it came out of his mouth anyway. “I’m going to BFS tomorrow to see Clarence. Want to come?”

  She looked up, the flicker of panic in her eyes disappearing behind the emotionless mask soldiers learned in Basic. “I don’t think I’d be welcome.”

  “Bullshit. Nobody who disarmed MEEDs is that big a coward.” He hid a wince the minute the words were out of his mouth. Way to alienate her, moron.

  Her chin snapped up. “I’m not a coward.”

  Rrrmmmm, Clarence rumbled.

  Yeah, yeah, I know. Working on it. “Nobody blames you for what happened.”

  “Tell that to Dave.”

  “Especially Dave. Either way, don’t you think you owe him a chance to say his piece?” He snapped his mouth closed and held up one hand. “Okay, that last bit was dirty pool. Sorry.”

  She blinked, looking torn between holding on to her outrage and being mollified by his apology.

  MRRRmmmmmm. Clarence planed a huge paw on her knee and rubbed his head over her thigh.

  Jake caught his breath as the illusion of tough polyester uniform pants seemed to rub across his cheek. It felt like his chin was two inches from her groin. An image flashed through his mind: licking her there, tasting the plump, wet flesh, breathing in the seawater-and-sex scent of her pussy. Don’t you dare, Clarence. God forbid his Familiar take the thought as a suggestion.

  Clarence chuffed a lion laugh.

  Erica stared down at her lap full of invisible cat, brown eyes going wide. Her gaze flicked back up to him, and for minute he was afraid she was about to bolt from the restaurant. Crap. Had she picked up his conversation with his Familiar? He wouldn’t put it past her.

  Settling back in the booth, Erica deliberately relaxed tensed shoulders. “Maybe you’re right. I do owe Dave a chance to tell me whatever he thinks I’ve got coming.” She sighed. “Besides, I want to tell Kurt how sorry I am about his dad.”

  “He knows you’d have come to the funeral if you’d been able to.”

  “Yeah. I all but begged, but my boss wouldn’t let me take the time off. I sent flowers and called, but it’s not the same.” She broke off and shook her head. “Never mind. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Bullshit. Yeah, I’ll come with you. What time do you want to go?”

  Jake barely managed to suppress a delighted grin. “Around ten?”

  Erica smiled, but it looked forced. Well-developed sense of duty or not, it was obvious she wasn’t looking forward to this. “Sure.”

  He was asshole enough to take advantage of her guilt. “Great.”

  * * *

  At her surrender, Jake gave Erica both dimples full blast in one of those wide grins that reminded her a little too much of Bobby’s.

  This is a mistake.

  Maybe, but he’s got a point. Avoiding Dave is cowardly.

  It had been one thing when she’d lived in New York or attended the South Carolina Criminal Justice Academy in Columbia. But she’d lived in Laurel County for two months now, and she damned well should have visited BFS.

  Being gutless was the one thing Erica couldn’t tolerate in herself. The fact it was emotional cowardice rather than physical didn’t make it any more acceptable. But then, she’d always found physical threats a lot easier to deal with. After a childhood of getting the shit beaten out of her, disarming MEEDs and magical booby traps hadn’t seemed all that intimidating.

  She’d still rather face a dozen Caliphate sorcerers than Dave Frost.

  Erica had always had a soft spot for the tall, lanky Texan. For one thing, she’d enjoyed the way he, Bobby, and Jake vied to see who could fire off the worst puns, bad jokes, and acid snark. Dave generally won, though Jake could give him a run for his money.

  That he’d live the rest of his short life as an animal because of her… Well, it was tough to take. Better than being dead, maybe, but not by much.

  As she brooded, Betty came by to refill their water glasses again. Jake asked for the check and she gave him a sunny smile. “Manager said to tell you it’s on the house, y’all being law enforcement.”

  Jake lifted a blond brow. “The manager said that? Or was it you?”

  He was right, Erica realized, studying the server’s aura. Patterns of pale swirling sherbet orange blended with cucumber green embarrassment. “Um…” Betty swallowed. The orange cleared away. “Me and Shannon.”

  Jake shook his head. “The sheriff doesn’t allow us to accept freebies.” He ga
ve her enough dimple to have her looking dazzled. “But thanks for the thought.”

  Sighing in defeat, Betty produced the check, then started gathering up their empty plates as he reached for his wallet. “Forget it,” Erica told him, pulling out her own to extract her debit card. “You’re not picking up the check.”

  Jake shrugged in a fluid movement of impressive delts. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Pulling out a twenty, he added it to her card.

  Erica managed to ignore Betty’s longing sigh as the server retreated to process the payment.

  Side by side, Erica and Jake strolled across the parking lot toward their cruisers. As they walked, a big, furred body bumped her thigh. Her gaze slid to Jake’s handsome profile. The lion shouldered her again. Raw sensation jolted through her -- a sudden vivid awareness of Jake, his size, his sheer maleness, his intense awareness of her.

  His need. A need she shared.

  I am so screwed.

  Chapter Four

  When the lion butted her hip for the third time, Erica almost fell on her ass. Jake caught her elbow. She was sharply, acutely aware of the warmth of his big hand cupping her through her uniform shirt.

  “Clarence, cut that out,” he told his Familiar, then added to her, “Sorry about that. He can be really pushy.”

  “I noticed.” Her voice sounded a bit breathy as the cat circled their legs.

  Despite her better judgment, Erica’s attention fell on Jake’s mouth, lips full and tempting under that strong cleft chin. Dragging her gaze away, she tried to think of a more neutral topic. “Did I thank you for saving my ass?” The words came out throatier than she’d intended, so she added a smartass grin. “Tooth Tank to the rescue. Ooo-Raar.”

  “Yeah, you thanked me. But I don’t mind hearing it again.” His voice dropped into a seductive rumble. “I’m interested in anything you want to give me.” His eyes fell to her lips, and his blond head lowered. “In fact, I have some suggestions.”

  Erica could have stepped back. God knew she’d done it often enough when her ex-boss had tried to force an unwelcome kiss. But Jake wasn’t forcing anything, and the warm, gentle brush of his lips was the opposite of unwelcome. She’d been craving this for months. Years.

  With a sigh, she parted her lips under his, wanting to taste him. To drink him in, as she’d longed to do for the past five years. His mouth tasted of maple syrup and Jake. Heat gathered in her belly, the tips of her breasts.

  An uneasy voice spoke from the back of her mind. But what if it all goes sideways again? I barely survived losing Bobby. I wouldn’t survive losing Jake.

  The thought made her draw back a few inches, breathing hard, to meet the burning gold of his eyes. This is stupid, her common sense insisted.

  “Erica,” he murmured softly, cupping her face in one broad hand, his thumb brushing back and forth over her cheekbone. “I want you.” A wave of heat rolled over her body at the stark, simple need in his voice.

  And she realized she didn’t care about common sense or guilt or simple self-preservation. Not with the touch of his aura triggering a wave of hot, carnal awareness that made her catch her breath. Something deep inside her seemed to flower, a delicious quiver of sensation rolling from her head to her toes.

  Oh, fuck it. I want this. I want him. Rising onto her toes, she kissed him, eager, hot.

  Jake growled softly against her mouth -- a human growl rather than leonine. His tongue explored her lower lip in a wet velvet stroke.

  And God, it felt so good.

  It had been too damned long. Too long since she’d felt the swirl of a lover’s magic rousing her body to desperate, trembling heat. Too long since she’d felt alive.

  Opening her mouth, Erica let him in. His tongue stroked along hers, and her breathing roughened. So did his.

  He licked deep, once, twice, then retreated, inviting her to explore his mouth in turn. She closed her teeth on the soft pillow of his lower lip in a teasing bite, then licked his gently thrusting tongue. His hands came to rest on her hips, drawing her close as he angled his head, deepening the kiss, offering her more.

  And God, she wanted more.

  Rrrrrrollll rumf. Clarence’s psychic voice held a moaning note of warning.

  They jerked apart.

  For a moment, Jake stared down at her, breathing hard, gold eyes glowing. Erica stared back, her heart slamming in her chest, need a hot, dark burn in the base of her belly. As if from a great distance, she heard a car rumble past. Which must have been what Clarence was trying to warn them about.

  “We can’t do this standing out in the parking lot.” Erica’s gaze focused on his lips, the damp, full curves of them, the hungry, eager way they parted. “Somebody’s going to report us. We’ll get fired.”

  “Not sure I care.” Jake sounded hoarse. “I need more of you.” Feral eyes flashed gold, reflecting the parking lot lights, the glowing not quite human. “Now.”

  Despite the cool spring wind, a wave of heat poured through her. She’d thought she wanted Bobby, but it had never felt like this. As if she were under a spell that stole her will and self-control, leaving only aching lust. And yet…

  “You know how it is with a cat’s libido.” She shook her head hard, trying to banish the memory of Bobby’s sneer.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed, taking in her reaction. “Do you know where the Greenbriar Mall is?”

  The strip mall stood a block away, closed and unoccupied since its big box anchor store went bankrupt. “Yes, but…”

  “We can talk there.”

  “Is talking really what you have in mind?” She’d intended the question to sound arch, but breathlessness sabotaged the effect.

  His mouth curved in a smile so hot, she felt a responding fire leap in her own blood. “What I really want is you in my bed all night long, but I strongly suspect you’d chicken out before you got there.”

  Her inner twelve-year-old was offended. “I’ve never chickened out of anything in my entire life.”

  A dimple flashed in one corner of his sinner’s mouth. “Then you’ll meet me behind the Greenbriar in five minutes.” He pulled out his key fob and unlocked his patrol car.

  Erica watched him slide in and slam the door. The engine roared as he looked up at her, lifting a brow in challenge before he pulled out.

  “Damn it, Nolan, if somebody spots us, we’ll get fired.” Never mind that they were technically off duty. Shaking her head, she dug out her own keys and unlocked her cruiser.

  As Erica followed Jake’s taillights onto the strip mall’s property, her sense of self-preservation was still bitching. Muttering curses under her breath, she trailed him around the long, low building, past an AVAILABLE sign, its paint peeling in strips off weather-beaten wood.

  The cruiser’s tires thumped over the cracked pavement as they headed for the rear lot with its concealing border of pine trees. Several security lights had burned out there, leaving an inky patch of darkness that Jake headed for like a homing pigeon. Erica followed, parking her cruiser next to his.

  He slid out of his car and looked down at her, a broad-shouldered silhouette. His eyes caught a beam of light from God knew where, reflecting gold. Heart pounding a crazed rhythm, she got out to join him. “If you think I’m necking in the back of the patrol car…”

  “God, no. Way too many drunks have yarked in my cruiser. I keep my car clean, but there’s only so much you can do.”

  She could only grin. “And Dave says there’s no romance in your soul.”

  His teeth flashed. “Give me a try and see for yourself how romantic I am.”

  Erica swallowed at the erotic challenge in his tone. This is not a good idea. She found herself moving closer anyway until they stood chest to chest.

  Which would have felt much sexier without the two bulletproof vests they were wearing.

  Jake’s big, broad hands came up and cupped her cheeks to cradle her head, tilting her chin up. His palms felt calloused, deliciously warm. His mouth felt just as seductive as he
kissed her, his lips feathering a soft brush across hers.

  Erica groaned and let herself lean into his chest. Though Jake wasn’t a tall man, his muscular breadth made her feel almost delicate. Feminine. The ASP baton hanging from his belt tapped her thigh, and the plastic buckles of their duty belts clicked as they eased together.

  He slid a hand behind her back to grip her belt and pull her closer. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She opened with a soft, yearning groan.

  He tasted of the Cauldron’s maple syrup, smelled of something dark and wild that made her think of deep woods and cat musk. Arousal tightened her belly, kicking off a honeyed flare of heat through her blood. Behind the thick padding of her vest, her nipples hardened. God, she wanted to feel his hands on her bare breasts. Ached for it.

  He rumbled, a delicious vibration. Thick, coarse fur brushed against the back of her thighs, a psychic impression of a leonine body.

  “Go away, Clar,” he murmured against her lips.

  The impression of fur disappeared.

  Shivering in helpless arousal, Erica spread her hands over his chest. Felt only tough uniform fabric and the thickness of the Kevlar vest. God, I want him naked.

  He drew back from her mouth, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “I want to touch you.”

  Licking dry lips, she croaked, “God yes. But this isn’t the…”

  Big hands stroked up over the rise of her breasts. She closed her eyes and swallowed, wishing it wasn’t so damn cold. Wishing she was naked, so she could feel his skin on hers.

  Fingers brushed the bare skin of her collarbones as if her bullet-resistant vest had turned to mist. An electric jolt of pleasure zinged through her, so intense it almost stung.

  Erica’s eyes sprang wide. Jake watched her hungrily, gold eyes glowing as his thumbs brushed back and forth over her uniformed chest. One hand slid down, and she rocked back, instinctively giving him room. Room to trace down her sternum, dance across the upper curves of one breast, then down the slope of it…